


Strength Enough

by willowwand



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-13
Updated: 2006-09-13
Packaged: 2018-10-26 09:21:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10783974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowwand/pseuds/willowwand
Summary: Ron and Hermione find comfort in each other after the final battle.





	Strength Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

If Hermione had to sit there for a moment longer, she swore she would go insane. It had been a horrible night. So many dead, so many injured. She couldn't help but feel guilty. Mrs. Weasley had lost a son, her firstborn. She was a terrible wreck and had refused to sit still once they got back from St. Mungo's. Fred and George had debated in whispers whether it would be all right to stun her, but finally decided on slipping her a bit of sleeping potion in her tea. Hermione had never seen the twins looking so somber and that was incredibly unnerving. At the same time, Hermione couldn't help but feel relieved that the people she loved the most were all fine...physically, that is.

  

Ginny was at St. Mungo's, having refused to leave Harry's side. He had faced Voldemort and destroyed him, but the energy it had taken to accomplish it had left him in somewhat of a coma. The Healers assured them it was something akin to the exhaustion he'd experienced in his first year after he had fought Quirrell to retain possession of the Philosopher's Stone, and that he'd rouse in a few days. Ron, Hermione and Ginny had all fought to remain with him until he woke up, but the Healer would only let one of them stay and Ginny was the natural choice. So, the rest of the Weasleys and Hermione had come back to the Burrow. Upon returning, Ron had immediately headed upstairs leaving Hermione to collapse into a chair in the kitchen and watch the Weasleys grieve their son and brother. She hardly knew what to do or say. It was a difficult time for them, and she felt like she was intruding on a private moment. After awhile, she began to worry about Ron. He'd been gone for so long.

  

"I'm going to check on Ron," Hermione muttered to no one in particular. 

  

George offered her a half smile and nodded before she got up and made her way upstairs. She'd gotten to the third landing when she heard water running from inside the bathroom. 

  

"Ron," she called through the door.

  

He didn't answer. Panic flared in her chest and she twisted the knob to see if it would open, but it wouldn't budge. Worried he could be hurt, Hermione pointed her wand to the door and murmured " _Alohomora_."  She pushed the door open.

  

"Ron?"

  

Nothing but the sound of the shower answered her.

  

"Ron, are you here?"

  

"Yes." His voice sounded small and choked.  

  

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked, her voice filled with emotion.

  

He didn't answer, so she did the only thing she could think of, she approached the shower and pulled back the curtain. Hermione was frightened at the sight that met her. Ron was sitting on the floor, his knees pulled up to his chest, his back against the tiled wall. Frigid water was falling on him, soaking his ginger hair. She could see gooseflesh raised on his pale freckled skin. Fear and embarrassment ate at her, as this was the first time she'd ever seen Ron, or any other man for that matter, without any clothes.  

  

"Ron, this water is freezing." She performed a quick warming charm. 

  

He didn't look at her. "You shouldn't be in here," he said. "My mum..."

  

"Is asleep," she said, softly. "Come out of there."

  

"I killed him," Ron said, still refusing to meet her eyes. 

  

"Who, love?" Hermione said, reaching for a towel behind her.

  

He raised his eyes to hers at the endearment. She wanted to cry seeing how weary, how dead his eyes looked. 

  

"He would have killed you," he said.

  

Hermione then knew he was talking about Dolohov. He'd been intent on "finishing off the Mudblood," referring to how he'd injured her at the Department of Mysteries in their fifth year. Ron had gotten him with a Severing Charm right across the throat. 

  

"I know, love."

  

"I killed him."

  

Ron put his face against his knees and his body shook.  Hermione didn't even think before she stepped into the shower fully clothed.  The now-warm water trickled down her back, soaking her Muggle t-shirt and jeans.  

  

"Ron," she said, kneeling beside him.

  

She wrapped her arms around him. His skin was cold, and it was too much for her to see him looking so broken. She pressed her lips against his. She kissed his forehead, his eyelids, the tip of his nose, before claiming his lips once more. 

  

Suddenly, something within Ron must have snapped, because he was kissing her back frantically, desperately. He clung to her tightly, and she clutched at his cold, wet body willing it to warm under her touch. 

  

As their kisses grew longer and more desperate, Ron pulled her soaked shirt over her head. A flood of thoughts ran through Hermione's mind: they were at the Burrow, his mum was asleep downstairs, she hadn't locked the door and anyone could walk in, his brother had just died, Harry was in hospital. The thought that trumped them all, as she reached behind her back to unclasp her bra, was the overriding fact that she just needed to feel Ron's skin against hers, to love him, to make them both feel alive again. Together they inched her sopping jeans and knickers down her thighs without breaking their kiss. His fingers trailed reverently across her skin.

  

"Ron," she moaned against his lips, pulling him down on top of her onto the shower floor.

  

He kissed her hard and she heard herself moan deep in her throat as she spread her legs so he could nestle between them. He pulled back from her, gasping for air, his lips swollen from her kisses. 

  

"I don't want to do this," he muttered.

  

Hermione bit her lip to keep from crying. Of course, of course he didn't want her. Why would he?

  

"Not like this," Ron continued, clutching her tightly once more. "You deserve so much more than this, than me." 

  

He buried his face in her hair.  

  

"Don't say that," she said, stroking his wet hair. "I love you. I don't know what I'd have done if... if a-anything had happened to you."

  

"I love you, too," she heard him murmur against her neck.

  

"Show me."

  

He raised his head to look at her as if making sure he heard her correctly.

  

"Show me," she repeated.

  

Ron lowered his face to hers, kissing her slow and deep. Her hands skimmed over his chest, his arms, his back, down to his bum.  His hands were making a similar journey over her body. 

  

"Ron," she pleaded.

  

Then, he was inside her. The pain was nothing compared to everything else she'd been through that day. Nevertheless, Hermione forced herself to concentrate on the way his mouth felt against her collarbone, the way his hands were caressing her breasts, the soft grunting escaping his lips.  Tears rolled down her cheeks and she moaned as he rocked gently against her. 

  

"You okay?" he panted.

  

"Yes, don't stop."

  

His pace quickened and she began to arch her hips in time with his, driving him deeper inside of her. Everything else fell away at that moment leaving just her and Ron, and she didn't want it to end. He looked so sexy, the sinewy muscles in his chest and arms so taut. His head was thrown back, his eyes closed tightly. Hermione knew he was close and she wanted nothing more than to push him over the edge. This was it, what they'd been fighting for, what they'd won. When it came to their relationship, neither of them was good with words but with actions, there was no room for misunderstandings. This was how she'd communicate what she was feeling to him.

 

Hermione raked her fingers up his back and linked her hands around his neck, pulling him closer. She could hear him panting heavily as she raised her lips to his earlobe. 

  

"Ron," she whimpered.

  

She felt him shudder slightly, at the sound of her voice.  He pushed faster and deeper inside her and finally came hard, spilling, hot, inside of her.

  

Ron pulled her into his arms and rolled onto his back so that she was lying on top of him. 

  

"We had better get out," she said. "The warming charm is wearing off."

  

"Ok," he said, drowsily.

  

After drying her clothes with her wand, they both dressed and headed back to Ron's bedroom. Ron pulled back the orange covers on bed, and they cuddled underneath them.  In light of the circumstances, neither of them believed anyone would raise a big fuss about it. This wouldn't be the end of the dark times, they had a world to rebuild, funerals to attend, wounds to heal. But right now, snuggled up against Ron's chest, listening to the gentle rhythm of his heart, Hermione had enough strength to face it all.


End file.
